


Dark Dovahkiin

by dragonkami



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:49:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonkami/pseuds/dragonkami





	1. The beginning...or is it?

Was that death there on the windowsill? No, 'twas nothing but a shadow. Narfi laughed to himself, even as sweat broke out across his body. No, no, he was being silly; the mead was playing with his mind. There was no one watching him. Even still, it couldn't hurt to look around again. He stretched and tried to make himself appear calm and collected, if a little drunk. His eyes swept over the tavern one, two, three times, but found no one even looking at him.  


'Ah well, time to step outside for some cool air,' he thought. 'Too stuffy. Out of coin 'sides.' He stepped out the door into the night air and his blood turned to ice at the sight of a tall figure, shrouded in crimson and ebony. He ran.  


Kyria smirked behind her shroud as she watched him flee. Slowly, silently, she eased herself away from the wall she'd been leaning on and casually loped after the fleeing figure. This was the fun part, watching them try to cheat the final toss of the reaper's dice. Her dice. Icy blue eyes swept ahead of the dwindling figure, noting he was headed straight for the forest. Perfect. As she sidled up to the edge of the trees, she stopped, slowly readying her bow, savoring every moment of Narfi's panic. She pulled back, took a deep breath, feeling time slow around her, and shot.  


His breath burned in his lungs as he ran, weaving between the trees, not daring to glance behind him. His legs begged him to stop but he pushed forward, stumbling over roots and twigs. Then he heard it. Just when he thought breath of death had breezed by him, he heard it.  


He was dead before he hit the ground, before even one drop of blood could spill from his fatal wound. Kyria watched with satisfaction as blood burbled slowly out of the base of Narfi's skull where her arrow had just been, grimly delighted with the grotesque painting it made on the beggar's rags.  


"Not bad, Sister." She whirled to see Astrid leaning against a nearby tree. "A little sloppy though, if I can surprise you." An enigmatic smile barely passed across her lips. The leader of the Dark Brotherhood was a sight to behold in her crimson and black armor, the epitome of everything Kyria ever hoped to achieve on her quest for revenge.  


Inclining her head in a gesture of respect, she remained silent in the presence of this formidable woman. She did not see the strange look in Astrid's eyes, nor realize it was unusual for her to take an interest in any of the new blood in the Brotherhood beyond recruiting, much less have her observe them carrying out a contract. Pushing herself away from her tree, Astrid scrutinized the corpse before her, toeing his lolling head with her foot.  


"I'm not usually one for compliments, new blood, but you're an excellent shot. Where did you learn to use a bow?" Her gaze flicked to the ebony bow still firmly grasped in Kyria's hand. Kyria remained silent for a moment, her mind flashing back to the bastard who stole her horse and got her stuck in the mess she was in and the draugr infested crypts she'd looted in search of answers before finally finding her voice.  


"I've been around," she replied evasively, "Done the odd job here and there, looted a few crypts." The last thing she wanted to get into, especially with the leader of the Brotherhood, was her newfound rank and abilities as the Dragonborn. She was already running herself ragged for the Greybeards and what felt like every Jarl and his mother across the Nine Holds. She sighed to herself.  


Astrid, sensing she'd get nothing more than that, gestured to Kyria to accompany her back to the Brotherhood's lair, but she, lost in her own thoughts, did not see. Astrid reached over and grabbed the wrist of the somnolent figure, believing her to be drained from the rush of her first contract; the moment her fingertips brushed Kyria's wrist it was like startling an ice wolf. Kyria's free hand twisted around and gripped her wrist and, with surprising strength, pushed her to the ground, bow abandoned for the dagger now held at Astrid's throat. Through her surpise, Astrid felt a thrilling tingle shoot through her body. Nobody, not even Arnbjorn, had ever managed to take her by surprise, and so violently; Astrid conceded to herself that she kind of liked it.  


Kyria blinked, slowly coming back to herself. She felt her pulse pounding in her ears, saw the blade trembling against Astrid's throat. She failed to notice the subtle, heated expression on Astrid's face, privately mortified at her unconscious attack on her newfound mentor. She quickly withdrew her blade and hastily assembled herself with a mumbled apology. Her breath was ragged and she felt like she was shaking all over. Astrid simply stared at her for a long moment before picking herself up off the ground.  


"Well that's one over on me, Sister. You're the first new blood to ever take me by surprise. I think you and I have much to learn from each other." Astrid brushed off her armor. "Now let's go home." And with that, she disappeared into the night, Kyria following close behind.


	2. Back Home

The forest blurred by in silence as they made their way to the Sanctuary. Astrid had already disappeared inside as Kyria approached the leering skull that marked the Sanctuary's entrance. A soft, eerie whisper reached her ears as she placed her hand against the carved skull.  


"What is the music of life?" The crimson handprint beneath her fingers began to pulse faintly.  


"Silence, my brother," came the hushed reply. The handprint grew warm, almost alive, and pulsed against her skin as she slowly pulled her hand away. The sound of grinding stone assured her she was fully accepted as a Brotherhood initiate. As she slipped inside she wondered what kind of enchantment was on the door and if she could learn it to use on the door to her room. Maybe she'd make a stop at the College of Winterhold later and find out.  


She made her way through the Sanctuary, nodding a respectful greeting to Arnbjorn, who was looking her over with an expression of uncertainty beside his forge, and located Nazir in the kitchen area. The Redguard greeted her with a sarcastic leer.  


"You reek of death, my friend. How goes the contract?"  


"Narfi is dead." Kyria spoke quietly, trying not to let her annoyance show. It was obvious Nazir didn't think much of her or her abilities, even after completing her contract. He tossed a bag of gold across the table and turned to greet Babette, who had just entered. She withdrew in silence, trying to ignore the twisting in her guts as laughter echoed after her.  


Finally she reached her haven tucked away deep in the belly of the Sanctuary. With a deep sigh, Kyria removed her shroud, allowing her long, dark hair to spill down her back like ink across parchment. She shed the rest of her armor and tucked it away before reclining on her simple bed, weary beyond belief.


	3. The Nightmare Begins

The night was calm and silent. Kyria wasn't sure what woke her; peering out the window the little cabin she saw nothing but forest. She heard Nyrissa, her foster mother, breathing gently, unperturbed. Something still didn't feel right. Shaking her head, she crawled back into bed.  


"Kyria!" Nyrissa's panicked scream tore a jagged hole in the sleepy silence.  


Kyria's eyes snapped open, ebony dagger hissing out from beneath the pillow as she bolted upright. Darkness pressed against her, the muffled silence broken only by her labored breath and the distant sound of the bustle of the Brotherhood. Try as she might, she heard no imminent danger, though she remained uneasy.  


"Laas!" she breathed, the Th'uum softly thrumming in her throat. She darted glances about searching for any signs of danger her aura whisper would have revealed but there were none. Though she only knew the first word of the Th'uum, it had saved her life on many occasions.  


She sighed to herself and replaced her dagger. The nightmare was back with a vengeance. It had been almost 12 years since her foster mother was killed. Over time the nightmare had faded while she grew up and learned to fend for herself in the wilds of Skyrim. Strange that it came back so vividly after her initiation into the Brotherhood. Shrugging off the coincidence, Kyria padded over to her wash basin and splashed her face with cool water. Drying off, her fingers brushed the small, puckered scar along the edge of her jaw, the only physical remnant of that fateful night. A solitary tear dripped down her cheek as she reclined in bed, an emptiness coiled in the pit of her stomach where sorrow used to be. 

She couldn't remember her life before Nyrissa found her. From the few terse conversations they'd had, the dark elf had found her in an abandoned Redguard encampment in Elswyr, a half-starved two and a half year old girl with barely a half day worth of water to survive on. Any further questions on the matter were met with Nyrissa feigning deafness or telling her to do her chores. Brushing those frustrating memories aside, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep, spared any further nightmares for the rest of the evening.


	4. New Targets

The next morning, refreshed and hungry, Kyria again sought Nazir in the kitchen of the Sanctuary. The Redguard was lazily reclining in a chair, clearly enjoying a chunk of bread and a mug of mead.  


"I want another contract." Kyria's tone dared him to refuse her. He eyed her sardonically over the rim of his mug.  


"Look who developed a taste for blood. If you think you can handle it, I have three additional contracts."  


"Name them and they shall be dealt with swiftly." She glared at him.  


"Very well. The first is Beitild, a mine owner in the city of Dawnstar. The second is Ennodius Papius. You will find him in the wilds to the southwest of Windhelm. Finally, there is Anoriath, owner of a meat stall in Whiterun. Return to me with as many as you are able and you will be rewarded." He waved her off in a bored manner, still clearly unimpressed with her abilities. She nodded stiffly, gathered food, and left him to finish his meal. She did not feel his eyes follow her as she quit the room.  


Making her way to the Sanctuary door, Kyria passed Astrid as she pored over several pages of parchment. She admired the staidness and dedication weaving itself across Astrid's features, which were surprisingly delicate for such a battle-hardened woman. As if sensing Kyria's fleeting gaze, Astrid's eyes flicked up to meet hers as she passed by, holding the hint of a smile. Her cheeks flushed, something rather uncharacteristic for her, and she increased her stride, practically bursting into a run to the door.  


The fresh mountain breeze cooled the heat in her cheeks as she leaned against the painted skull. What was wrong with her? Shaking her headed, she sternly reminded herself of the task at hand. She sought her horse, a great bay behemoth of a beast, grazing nearby in the forest. The mare nuzzled her cheek as she packed food and supplies into the saddlebags. The velvet softness of her muzzle brought traces of a nostalgic smile to Kyria's lips.  


"Time to go, Reya." She swung herself easily onto the mare's back and patted her neck reassuringly before nudging her into motion. Reya hadn't been hers long, but she was a good replacement for Valo, the horse that had been stolen from her several months ago. She had managed to track down the thief, but both of them ended up being captured by the Imperials as he had tried to flee. She smiled smugly to herself as she remember the heavy whoosh of the executioner's axe and the dull thud of his head as it was separated from his body.  


Shaking out of her reverie, Kyria gently nudged Reya into a gallop. There were many miles between her and Dawnstar and she was eager to ferret out the whereabouts of Beitild. Forest, field, and mountain all blurred by as Reya's stride ate up the miles. After a time, Kyria reigned her back and made camp, preparing food for herself and tending to a worn-down horse.

Dawn was just making it's way down the mountains when she woke. After devouring a few scraps from the previous evening, she set to work feeding and readying Reya. If they made good time she could be in Dawnstar by dusk. Securing her weaponry, Kyria mounted Reya and urged her quickly into a gallop. She balked a little at Kyria's impatience but was soon thundering through the wilderness toward their destination.


End file.
